


Gift in the Rain

by rhythmickorbit



Series: Marching Band Summers, Orchestral Winters [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Birthday Fluff, Cute, F/F, Fluff, Possible OOCness, also belarus is a protective sibling, belaliech - Freeform, but they are in a marching band anyway, high school romance, i like the idea of belarus getting along well with switzerland, i think they can be very alike, sorryyyy, this is a silly thing that i came up with the other day, vibraphone players
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:22:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmickorbit/pseuds/rhythmickorbit
Summary: Natalya wants to give a birthday gift to her sweet and kind section-mate, Erika. However, there's one small hiccup in her plan.





	Gift in the Rain

The second year of Natalya’s tenure of marching band brought new members to the front ensemble—most notable of these were the Zwingli siblings. Basch, the older brother, had the capability to be nearly as prickly as Natalya herself. She could respect that, although she didn’t see what he saw in the dumb synth player, and the two often exchanged friendly conversation. The person that really brightened up her day, however, was Basch’s younger sister, Erika. Over the course of their three weeks at band camp, the two vibraphone players spent much of their time together. Although they were complete opposites in outlook and personality, Natalya quickly learned to appreciate Erika’s quick wit and sweet temper. Often, Erika had the capability to make Natalya smile, or even laugh when no one else could.

           

And it didn’t hurt, of course, that Natalya found her pulse quicken ever so slightly whenever Erika brushed passed her, or exchanged mischievous glances with her over the front line. She, and the other people in the section, really, helped Natalya let go, little by little, of the constant worry for her siblings and their emotional state.

           

So, when Natalya figured out that Erika’s birthday was the fifteenth of August, she vowed to give the girl a gift of magnificent proportions. One that was sure to make Erika’s smile turn upon her, although Natalya admitted that there wasn’t a day that went by wherein Erika _didn’t_ smile at her in some shape or form.

           

Natalya came to practice on the fourteenth, as she and her siblings did every Friday. Different, however, was how she felt her stomach drop in complete dread. Natalya saw Elizaveta and Gilbert decorating Erika’s vibraphone with streamers and balloons, the colors bright and colorful and  _wrong._ She felt her face flush heavily as her sister, Iryna called out a greeting to the two, and embarrassment reared its ugly head as Natalya realized how big of a mistake that she really made. She couldn’t believe that she got it wrong by a whole _day_. She had even asked Roderich, who was close with Basch, and consequentially knew both of the Zwingli siblings’ birthdays. The gift was not ready for this rehearsal, and even more awful was that Natalya would not have anything to give Erika.

           

When Basch and Erika arrived in rehearsal, everyone sang well wishes to Erika, who looked absolutely thrilled at the festivities. As usual, Erika was a beacon of light, basking in the attention but remaining effortlessly humble. She giggled when Roderich presented her with cupcakes made the previous night, and Erika insisted over and over that no one had to do _anything_ for her birthday.

           

 _Of course we do,_ Natalya thought to herself as she stood a distance away from the crowd. _You’re wonderful._

           

Basch was pleased as could be that everyone was celebrating for his sister, and even smiled at the birthday hat that Kilian solemnly presented to Erika—painted with inside jokes and humorous images that made Erika smirk with glee. Natalya, however, had a sour taste worm through her mouth every time Erika's birthday was brought up again. Even when the ensemble moved their equipment outside for a full rehearsal, Natalya couldn’t bring herself to look Erika in the eye. As a result, Natalya missed _several_ important cues in the music, and received more than a few strange looks from Elizaveta.

           

After about an hour, though, the band director called everyone to go inside—gray clouds were gathering overhead, and he feared that rain would be imminent. Natalya grudgingly pushed her bulky vibraphone up the ridiculously steep hill and to the door leading inside, with some difficulty, and continued to stew in her own guilt all the while. Erika must hate her now.

           

Someone tapped on her shoulder. Natalya quickly turned around, ready to tell Gilbert or whoever else dared to bother her off, but the anger in her chest softened as she looked into Erika’s mossy green gaze. The smaller girl tugged on Natalya’s arm, and Natalya simply shoved her vibraphone the rest of the way inside. Gilbert, or whoever else was inside could deal with it.

           

Natalya followed Erika across the grass to a secluded doorway, where the weeds were long and the dandelions wild. The previously golden sunlight was dimmed as clouds crowded around it, demanding the sky to let them shed tears. Erika bit her lip, and spoke.

           

“Natalya, are you angry with me?” Her voice quavered a little bit, and the faintest flush was clearly evident in her cheeks. Natalya was stunned. Had she implied that? The wind started to pick up, motivating the unmowed grass to caress Natalya’s legs.

           

“Why would you believe that?” she inquired, her rough voice almost carried away with the breeze.

           

“Um… I don’t know,” Erika admitted. “You didn’t talk to me or look at me for all of rehearsal. I thought that I had done something wrong.” Rain began to fall, making Erika yelp with surprise. The two girls crowded under the meager shelter of that doorway, their arms brushing softly against one another in the small space.

           

“No, I was just… guilty. I felt bad that I got the date of your birthday wrong. I thought it was tomorrow,” Natalya mumbled. “You have always been so kind, and I just wanted to get you something, and it wasn’t ready in time for today, and I don’t deserve a friend like you.” The temperature of her cheeks rose as she let her words fly free, something she never did. It was just something that Erika seemed to do to her. To her surprise, Erika started to giggle.

           

Her sides shook with joy, something to which Natalya felt the sharp bite of confusion. Then, Erika laced her fingers with Natalya’s and beamed. Her touch was like a catalyst to Natalya’s heartbeat, making it grow erratic, making her body feel hot. Natalya relished it.

           

“Natalya,” Erika laughed. “My birthday _is_ tomorrow! Elizaveta just celebrated it today because tomorrow is Saturday, so we won’t have rehearsal.” Her eyes twinkled.

           

“Oh. _Oh,_ ” Natalya remembered now. She rubbed the back of her neck. She wouldn’t have even been able to _give_ the gift to Erika, because they wouldn’t have seen each other. “Sorry.”

           

The rain grew from a drizzle to the beat of a drum as it struck the parking lot and grass outside. Despite the cool water worming its way into the small doorway, the girls’ sanctuary was warm, electric.

           

“No, it’s okay,” Erika’s cheeks had become a rosy pink. “It’s a shame that you won’t be able to give me my present tomorrow, though.” Natalya was now very aware of their proximity toward each other. Erika smiled softly and continued. “Maybe we could… hang out? And you could give it to me then?” Her eyes seemed to brighten with hope.

           

Natalya’s mouth had suddenly become very dry. “Okay. What—what do you have in mind?” Thunder rumbled outside, but could not compare to the pounding inside of Natalya’s chest.

 

Erika simply shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me. Maybe we could text about it later?” Natalya’s breath hitched as Erika took another step toward her, their bodies only centimeters apart. The silence vibrated with emotions unexpressed, things that Natalya was dying to say but hadn’t the words for. The rain tumbled down outside, and formed puddles at their feet.

           

“Natalya,” Erika broke the pause.

           

“Yes?”

           

“To make up for the whole thing,” she breathed. “May I kiss you?”

           

Natalya, of course, said yes.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very very self-indulgent au that I made up the other day. I myself am in my school's marching band and it's really fun to imagine these characters in that setting! That being said, I am still working on Axes Crossed-- this is just a tiny break in the fray I suppose. There will be more fics in this au, that I can promise. It'll be a kind of warm-up/cool-down thing for me with my major fics/original works, so none of these fics will be nearly as heavily edited as, say, Axes Crossed.
> 
> BelaLiech is soooo underrated, tbh. I tried to keep them in character but I haven't really written these characters before... so excuse any slip-ups that happened. 
> 
> I might change ages and stuff in the future idk. 
> 
> The Front Ensemble (Names and other info. Not everyone is mentioned in the fic but i wanted to share anyway)  
> Elizaveta Héderváry: Hungary. The center marimba and also the section leader. A senior.  
> Vladimir Ardeleon: Romania. Plays the marimba. A senior.  
> Iryna Braginski: Ukraine. Plays the marimba and is Natalya's sister. A senior.  
> Roderich Edelstein: Austria. Plays the synth/piano. A junior.  
> Gilbert Beilschmidt: Prussia. Plays the electric bass. A senior.  
> Basch Zwingli: Switzerland. Plays the timpani. A junior.  
> Erika Zwingli: Liechtenstein. Plays the vibraphone. A sophomore.  
> Natalya Braginski: Belarus. Plays the vibraphone. A sophomore.  
> Kilian Edelstein: Kugelmugel. Plays auxiliary percussion. A freshman.


End file.
